The sky rumbled, a low growl of thunder echoing over the ruined Tomb of the Lioness. Lightning danced across the heavens, illuminating the devastation below. Everess hovered in the air, her eyes wide with shock and awe at the raw power she had just witnessed.
The tomb stood larger and more imposing than any other in the vicinity, its grandeur now marred by destruction. Once a fortified stronghold, it now lay in ruins, its walls shattered and its defenses obliterated.
Even from afar, she could sense the palpable energy that had torn through the tomb. It was a force unlike any she had ever encountered, and it had left her breathless.
Half a world away, she had felt the same surge of power from the encampment outside Oroz’Kram. Without hesitation, she had raced to the scene of the attack, her heart pounding with a mixture of dread and fascination.
As she surveyed the devastation before her, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at the sheer magnitude of the destruction. A tempest seemed to have been unleashed upon the tomb, tearing through its defenses with ease.
She was drenched in rain that followed shortly after the attack of the unknown being, whom disappeared using the same thing she’s been using to be in two places at once, the teleport orb.
The thought of an Orderian doing this was taking a heavy toll on her as she teleporbed back to the camp. She sat in her chair, still stunned from what she witnessed. She already knew that things are not looking to good with the others for her, but word ever got out that an Orderian is doing these raids, things will be a lot harder, not just for her, but for every orderian out there in the world.
As the fire flickered inside the tent, casting dancing shadows on the canvas walls, her mind raced with the weight of the situation. The repercussions of the ongoing conflict pressed down on her, and she knew she couldn’t allow it to continue unchecked. She needed a resolution, and she needed it quickly, before events took a darker turn.
A soldier’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she startled at the interruption. “Your Highness, we wish to enter,” the soldier called.
“What is it?” her voice trembled slightly, betraying her inner turmoil.
“We have a report to submit. May we come in?” the soldier asked.
“Come in,” she replied, trying to steady her voice.
As the soldiers entered, they were taken aback by her disheveled appearance. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she noticed their hesitation, and then realization dawned as she remembered how drenched she was. Clearing her throat, she immediately composed herself and asked, “What is it?”
“Ah, Your Highness, we wish to report that the siege equipment is already seventy-five percent complete. It should be ready by the time the United Forces arrive,” the soldiers reported.
“How long until they arrive?” she inquired, trying to appear calm despite the urgency gnawing at her.
“About two to three days from now,” the soldier answered.
Two to three days. It was too long. She felt the weight of time pressing down on her, her options dwindling with each passing moment.
“Begin the assault,” she ordered, her voice firm.
The soldiers exchanged uncertain glances. “But, Milady, the fortress of Oroz’Kram is formidable,” one of them protested. “With our current numbers, we won’t be able to take it as quickly as we’d like,” added another.
“He is right, Your Highness. Perhaps it would be best to wait for the rest of the United Forces. Let us not be too hasty,” said the other.
Hasty? he thought, her frustration rising. Was she truly being hasty here? She stood up, her gaze fixed on the distant fortress visible through the tent’s entrance.
“I have no time for such distractions,” she declared, her tone heavy with resolve. She turned to the soldiers, her eyes flashing with determination. “Begin the siege.”
“But, Milady—” one of the soldiers started to protest.
Her hand shot out in a gripping gesture. The soldier then hovered abruptly as if he was held by his throat, with a maroonish collar that materialized out of thin air, tightening around his neck. The other soldier, taken aback, immediately dropped to his knees. “We will begin the siege, Your Highness. Our apologies,” he gasped.
Releasing the soldier, she watched as he crumpled to the ground, coughing and choking. The soldiers had no choice but to bow and leave.
Alone once more, she sank back into her chair, her hands trembling with the weight of her actions. She was disturbed by what she had just done. The realization of the threat she posed unsettled her to the core.
She immediately stood, the weight of her actions heavy on her shoulders, and teleported back to the tower. In her office, she looked out the window once more. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and when she opened them, Lyo stood before her in the Mirror Realm.
“I see that you are stressed,” Lyo said in her haunting voice. “Finally seeing the futility of your actions, Grand Sage?”
Her hands clenched in anger. “I’m doing everything I can.”
“To delay the inevitable, Grand Sage,” Lyo cut her off.
The burden grew heavier with each passing day, and today it felt particularly crushing. “Perhaps it is best to show you the results of delaying the inevitable,” she said, her voice heavy with resignation.
With a wave of her hand, the Mirror Realm darkened. The sky roared with the anger of the gods, thunder and lightning splitting the air as heavy rain poured down on an unknown town by the shore.
Clanging swords and the screams of the dying echoed in the soaked air as the town erupted in pinkish explosions and raging fire. She watched, confused and horrified, as people fled to large ships, desperate to escape the devastation.
In an open field, two men fought with intense ferocity. One had red glowing tattoos that reached up to his eyes, flickering with a pinkish maroon light as weariness dulled the fire in his gaze. Then a hooded figure stepped in front of him.
“Give up,” the hooded figure said as the sky roared once more.
“Why did you do this?” the man asked, his voice heavy with despair. “What will you gain from all of this?” He struggled to catch his breath, weary from the ongoing battle.
“You know full well why and what,” the hooded figure replied, raising a hand that glowed with a sinister red light.
“For what, Marius? We did everything together! We led our people together. I thought you died when we fought the king’s army, only for you to come back and lead them here!” Galfridus shouted, his voice breaking with despair.
Marius ignored him, his steps heavy in the muddy ground as he approached Galfridus. “Galfridus, what you said is not true. It is you, and only you, who led our people to this point. You are the reason for this war,” Marius said, his voice heavy with accusation as he raised his hand above Galfridus.
“You call this war? This is no war — This is a massacre!” Galfridus coughed, struggling to rise. “Your mind is twisted, Brother."
“And you are naïve,” Marius retorted, preparing to strike with his glowing arms. But before he could, Galfridus blocked the attack with his own pink-lit arms and threw Marius backward, where he stopped mid-air and hovered a few feet away. A book fell from Marius’s grasp, landing on the ground with a thud.
Galfridus stared at the book, stunned. “You — you read from the forbidden book!”
Marius and Galfridus locked eyes, both unsure of their next move. “It gave me the power to finally end you; to lead our people to their rightful path!” Marius declared, his voice filled with conviction.
Marius began to cast a destructive spell, but before he could finish, a magical projectile slammed into him, sending him flying into the woods with tremendous force.
Galfridus dropped to his knees, his magisters rushing to his side. They lifted him to his feet and carried him toward the remaining ship, its sails already billowing in the wind.
“Did we do it?” Galfridus stuttered, his voice filled with uncertainty.
“We managed to get most of them out, even the non-reos,” the tallest magister reassured him. Relief washed over Galfridus.
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“Then we should start sailing and head to the new world,” he said, struggling to rise.
“Yes, Grand Sage, at once,” the lieutenant answered.
“What about the Grand Warlock?” another asked.
“He won’t be able to follow us,” Galfridus said with certainty.
The fleet caught up with the Aurora, their flagship. They landed on the upper deck as their fellow crew members continued to assess and scout their route. The ambiance aboard the ship began to calm as they moved further from the shore and into the vastness of the ocean.
“Deploy the remaining sails now, Captain. We need to make haste,” Galfridus ordered, his tone urgent. The other ships quickly followed suit.
As the mainland became nothing more than a distant silhouette behind them, Galfridus anxiously awaited their enemies. The fog thickened, the rain weakened, and the skies finally calmed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
“Prepare for battle!” he shouted to the others. They all looked at him, waiting for orders. The ship creaked with sudden advancement. “Well, what are you waiting for? To your stations. Now!” Galfridus’ voice rang out, filled with urgency.
Minutes passed, and the surroundings slowly fell silent, the only sound the eerie calmness of the sea. They nervously waited for their foes, knowing that one final stand could determine their survival. Galfridus paced the upper deck, his eyes scanning the horizon, while the other ships remained on guard, carrying women, children, and supplies to start anew.
Back at the crow’s nest on the Aurora, a young sailor held a small scope, his hands trembling as he peered through the fog. His breath caught in his throat as he spotted silhouettes emerging from the mist on the port side of the ship. Large enemy vessels loomed into view, their flags snapping in the wind as they unfurled their massive sails.
With determination, the young sailor stood and shouted, his voice echoing across the deck, “They are coming!”
All eyes turned toward him as he continued, his words urgent and trembling, “Port side! Northward! It’s an entire fleet!”
Galfridus rushed down to the deck, his heart pounding as he scanned the horizon. The enemy had broken through their formation and was slowly surrounding their fleet. His eyes widened as one of the enemy ships turned, ready to fire.
“Brace yourselves! Prepare to fight back when they fire!” Galfridus’ voice boomed over the chaos, rallying his men. The crew scrambled, preparing for the impending naval battle.
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed through the air. Galfridus turned to see the enemy fleet firing from a considerable distance. Though the shots missed their ships, they were close enough to shake the waters beneath them.
Another deafening boom followed, and three shots headed straight for them. The shots closed in like a net, and one struck their ship with a thunderous impact. Galfridus watched in shock as the hull of one of their ships was breached, water rushing in and threatening the lives of the women and children aboard.
“Prepare to fire back! Save as many as we can from that ship!” Galfridus bellowed, his voice filled with urgency. Taking a deep breath, he soared into the air, his eyes glowing with a pinkish-maroon light. With a wave of his hand, he flung glowing orbs toward two enemy ships, causing them to explode and quickly sink into the dark, murky waters of the sea.
But the enemy was relentless. They returned fire with a barrage of exploding iron, the blasts raining down on Galfridus’ fleet. The men formed a shield on their port side, bracing themselves as cannonballs exploded dangerously close to their ships, throwing them off their feet.
They fired back once more, determined to eliminate the hindrance in their path.
Galfridus crossed his arms, his eyes glowing with a fierce maroon light. With a powerful gesture, he hurled another orb toward the enemy ships, causing five more to sink beneath the waves. But their victory was short-lived. Another deafening blast echoed through the air, this time from the starboard side of their fleet.
Galfridus turned, his heart sinking as he saw another enemy fleet emerging from the mist.
“Protect the starboard! Prepare to retaliate from both sides! Defenders, follow me! We’ll take on the other fleet,” he shouted, his voice carrying over the chaos of battle. With determination, he flew toward the newly emerged enemy fleet, the other defenders close on his heels.
Galfridus’ eyes glowed once more than he prepared to unleash another deadly spell. The defenders followed suit, flinging their exploding orbs at the enemy with precision. Their attacks hit their marks, swiftly reducing the enemy’s numbers. But Galfridus left nothing to chance. With a powerful incantation, he unleashed multiple orbs that tore through the remaining enemy ships, sinking them entirely.
With the enemy fleet destroyed, Galfridus turned his attention back to the Aurora. But as they closed in, a cannonball was fired at them from one of the remaining enemy ships. The massive projectile hurtled toward them, and Galfridus prepared to deflect it.
To their surprise, the cannonball exploded mid-air, releasing a barrage of burning pellets that rained down on every defender in flight, including Galfridus. He was struck and sent hurtling toward the dark, cold sea below.
Just as he was about to crash into the water, another surviving defender swooped in, catching him and pulling him to safety. With a grim determination, Galfridus conjured a bolt of pink lightning from his left hand, striking the ship that had fired upon them. The vessel exploded from the force of the attack, and then they turned back toward the Aurora, determined to regroup and continue the fight.
The defender landed both of them softly on deck before flying back to his station. Despite his injuries and pain, he managed to breathe out one final command.
“Continue firing and don’t stop until they give up,” he said, his voice strained, before he fell unconscious.
Galfridus was hurried inside the infirmary as the captain rushed to issue another command, signaling the other ships.
“Continue the barrage on the enemy fleet,” the captain ordered, her voice resolute. She turned the wheel, steering the ship toward the starboard and into the thick fog.
The ships continued firing, their resolve unwavering even as the odds seemed insurmountable. Fortunately, the enemy fleet was unable to follow them into the fog. However, the enemy managed to fire once more, sinking the ship that carried most of their supplies.
The captain’s heart sank as she witnessed the loss. Despite their victory, the sinking of their supply ship and another vessel was a devastating blow.
“Who are these people?” she finally asked Lyo, her voice filled with confusion and frustration.
“These are your people,” Lyo answered simply.
She was stunned, realization dawning upon her. She had no idea she was witnessing history in the making—the origin of her people.
“I don’t understand. What is the point of all of this?” she uttered, her voice filled with uncertainty.
“You will see soon, Grand Sage. For now, observe,” Lyo said cryptically, and she continued to watch, her mind swirling with questions.
Days passed as they sailed on through the thick fog. Galfridus had recovered from his injuries, with only minor wounds remaining.
“We’ve been in this fog for days now, and our supplies are running low,” the captain informed Galfridus, his voice heavy with concern. “I am sorry, Grand Sage. It is my fault we are here.”
Galfridus placed a reassuring hand on the captain’s shoulder and smiled warmly at his trusted officer. “It is not your fault. You saved us all, and for that, I am indebted to you.”
Then, in a sudden moment of excitement, the sailor in the crow’s nest shouted, “The new world! Land ho!”
All eyes turned forward, and as the fog began to break, the quiet seas and the shores of the new world came into view.
“Deploy all sails!” Galfridus ordered, his voice filled with anticipation as the entire fleet sailed with renewed haste. “Prepare to lower anchors and prepare for landing!”
They closed in on the shores, but the smile that once graced Galfridus’ face gradually faded, replaced by a sense of doubt. As they retracted their sails and began to board their boats to head toward the coast, everyone was filled with excitement at the prospect of finding a new land they could call their own, a new home.
But despite the excitement of the crew, Galfridus remained uncertain.
As their boats slowed and hit the sand, they all jumped off onto the shore. Galfridus stopped on the beach and looked around, taking in the abundant and fruitful trees that reached up to the sky, their leaves as blue as the sea itself. He was astonished by the beauty of this new land, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they should tread cautiously.
Suddenly, they heard a slight movement from the bushes, and several groups of armed men emerged. They were armed with bows and swords, with pointed ears and skin as white as the sands on the beach.
The defenders and the others accompanying Galfridus prepared themselves for battle, but Galfridus ordered them to stand down. One of the mysterious armed men stared at him with hesitation. He spoke, but Galfridus couldn’t understand a single word of the unfamiliar language.
Galfridus turned toward the Aurora and signaled for someone from the ship to join them. Suddenly, a wave of pink and maroon light exploded across the sky, captivating the attention of the mysterious beings. As Galfridus approached one of them, the man who had spoken to him before repeated his question.
“We are of the Trasidar Kingdom of Go’Renhor. State your name,” the man asked Galfridus.
Galfridus was in awe. He had only heard stories of these people, creatures that eventually morphed into myths and legends. As he looked around at the strange and beautiful land before him, he began to realize that they were not in the same world anymore.
“I am Galfridus Rosseros, Grand Sage of the Orderian,” he answered, his voice trembling with quiet disbelief. He extended his hand to the Trasidian man. The Trasidian looked at his hand for a moment, then smiled and shook it, welcoming them to this strange, new world.
As they slowly returned to the Mirror Realm, Lyo still stood before her.
“Our people were indeed visitors — guests in this world,” Lyo said solemnly.
“Not guests, simply returned home,” Lyo added.
She was confused. “What do you mean, returned home?”
“Your people were supposed to be responsible for this world, Grand Sage. If your ancestors hadn’t left, the world would be a different place. There would be no Grand Warlock,” Lyo explained.
“What do you mean, Grand Warlock? There is no such title in our history,” she exclaimed.
“The man responsible for it was the one who led your people back,” Lyo said. “What I showed you were the repercussions of one’s actions if they ignore fate, if they ignore what they were destined to be.”
Lyo’s words weighed heavily on her. “I want you to think long and hard about your next moves, as they could very well dictate the course of history in this world, a course that even the Gods and Animos will be powerless to correct. Do what you are expected to do now, Grand Sage.”
With that, she found herself back in Sanctum. She was too stunned to do anything, too stunned to speak or even think. The burden was too much, even for her. She needed help.
In her despair, she teleported back to the encampment, where she heard explosions. The siege was already underway. But her mind was too bogged down to even consider that.
Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision as she struggled to process the overwhelming revelations that had been thrust upon her. She felt a tightness in her chest, her heart heavy with the weight of the burden she now carried. It was as if the entire fate of this new world rested squarely on her shoulders.
Summoning an Orderian Owl out of thin air. The Orderian Owl flickered into existence before her, its bright eyes filled with concern as it regarded her. She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose herself. Her voice was barely more than a broken sob as she whispered, “Yoe Ion Margog Tamiron.”
Moments later, Tamiron appeared in a projection.
“Everess, what is it? What’s wrong?” the Tamiron asked, his voice gentle and soothing.
She hesitated, her throat constricting with emotion. She forced herself to speak, her voice trembling with the weight of her burden.
End of Chapter XXI